


After all is said and done, I left and you followed

by siren_of_the_ocean



Series: The doll [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Coraline (2009), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt Tim Drake, Inspired by Coraline, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim Drake is something else, Tim Drake-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26843308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siren_of_the_ocean/pseuds/siren_of_the_ocean
Summary: Tim doesn't expect to hear from Coraline Jones ever again. Not since she was a little girl. No. But of course Constantine would bring her to the watchtower, threatening to destroy everything Tim has built for himself.After all. Who would ever love a puppet, right?
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Coraline Jones, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: The doll [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878559
Comments: 43
Kudos: 294





	1. It all starts here

**Author's Note:**

> And. Here we are again.

Coraline Jones

Not a name Tim expected to hear again. Ever. 

But, I guess beggars can't be choosers. Especially not in this game. 

It all starts with a simple notification, late in the afternoon as Tim sits in the Watchtower lounge area, waiting for a reprisal about the Titans mission he was on. A simple notification to the watchtower computer pops up, alerting the person on duty, being Flash, that Constantine is coming up and is bringing a guest for a possible League mission. 

Flash, not thinking anything amiss, accepts the notification and sends out a message to everyone that a non-league member will be kn board. Red Robin receives this message and dismisses it with a shrug. With Constantine, a possible league mission could be anything from mads possessions to an actual door to hell. And a non-league guest could very well be either Constantine's best friend, Chaz or the new girl he keeps hanging around, Zee. 

So he sits and continues waiting for Wonder Girl to finish her debriefing. The others may be involved but Wonder Girl had taken point and no-one challenges her. The mission had even been pretty easy. Well. Comparatively. 

It was much more similar to their young justice days, where they freed planets using a baseball game. Or got pranked by Klarion. This time, it was just a normal guy who managed to find a semi-magical object. A sword that drives people slowly mad. But not the violent kind of mad. No. Of course not. No. This guy had been hallucinating wildly before they got a hold of him, barking at trees and slurring about undead hoardes. 

The doors to his left open, Tim glancing up to see Constantine enter, grumbling about the smoking rules while he tries to douse his cigarette without crushing it. Obviously, someone had shown him the new no smoking signs. Tim feels sorry for that person. And Constantine obviously didn't want to waste a barely used cigarette. 

Tim glances around Constantine and stops, his blood freezing in place as his heart stops beating. Ice in his veins and head pounding. 

Because standing slightly behind Constantine, with her arms folded across her chest, is Coraline. Of course, she's grown up now. Hair cut short, cheeks thinner and features more mature. But she is still Coraline Jones. 

Same black-blue hair. Same amber eyes. Same freckles and facial features. Her style doesn't even seem to have changed all that much, firefly clip in her hair and outlandish clothing that only she seems to get away with. Though if she's come into contact with Constantine, she probably doesn't have to wonder about dress codes. 

He can see the second her eyes lock onto him, causing her to jolt and her hand to reach for her pocket before she stills. 

They stare at each other for a second before Constantine clears his throat, looking between the two of them in frustration. "The league is currently in a briefing. They won't be out for another 10 minutes at least by my estimates" Tim reports, forcing his tongue to release from his palate. He still doesn't look away from her. 

"Well then. I'm off to find a place where I can smoke. Call me when they get here" Constantine says, turning his back and leaving. Leaving the two of them alone to stare at one another again. 

"Why are you here" She hisses. Tim doesn't even think before he answers 

"I help them"

It makes her lips pull to the side in reluctant pity and anger. After all, that's all he does, isn't it? 

He helps. Always has and always will. And Coraline knows this because he was made to help her. He knows that as well as she does. 

It makes the silence awkward, as it stretches around them like a living thing, biting and snapping and taunting them to speak. 

Coraline is the first to give in, sighing before she starts to speak again. 

"I need help. I went to Constantine because I thought he could help me but he...can't isn't the right word. He can. He just doesn't have the jurisdiction? Or maybe he just doesn't want to. I'm not really sure yet" 

"He can be like that sometimes. Not a great person but not a bad magician"

"I gathered" she smiles, lio caught between her teeth as she continues to stare at him. At his eyes. 

"Have you....Have you been alright? Out here?" She asks, gesturing around them. She doesn't mean the watchtower. Doesn't mean space or whatever else most people would assume. 

"I've adjusted. Couldn't really shirk that compulsion to help though. Can't stop being useful, you know?" he says, though he phrases it like a statement. They both know it isn't. Knows that it is a statement of fact. Like gravity or sunlight. 

"Yeah. I get that" she almost looks guilty as she says that, looking down at her hands as she gingerly takes a seat next to him on the couch. "I'm sorry" she blurts a second later, her voice strained. 

Tim doesn't bother trying to hide the indecrulity from his voice "Sorry for what?". 

She breathes for a few breaths, thinking about how to answer "I brought you here because I was certain that you would be better here. I never thought about what would happen once you were here. And I just. Left you. To fend for yourself. I'm just, so sorry" she breathes, making it hard for Tim to hear over his own heartbeat. 

"Don't be sorry. I'm glad that you brought me here. I'm glad you brought me with you. It might not have worked out as we had planned but we were kids. You were a kid and I didn't know any better. Besides, it all worked out" Tim says as he gestures to his Red Robin uniform, causing her to let it a startled laugh. 

"I'm glad that it worked out for you. I really, really am. It's just weird seeing you again" she speaks through her intermittent giggles. And it gives Tim a boost of strength. 

"Everything worked out. I promise" he assures but in the silence after that statement turns her brow creased. Like she doesn't believe him. 

"Did it? Did everything turn out alright? I mean" she laughs incredulously "You're a protege of Batman. That doesn't really give me hope that you found a normal house and life and happiness. Do they. 

Do they even know?"

At that, Tim can't help but look away, giving Coraline all the answer she needs. She doesn't even look suprised, rather looking resigned. It isn't a good look on her, Tim decides, something in his gut squirming at him to help her. Fix it. Make her happy. 

So he does what he can. Does what he does best. He forces a smile onto his face, lips pulling back and revealing straight teeth. He forces his eyes to reflect in a way that is supposed to show happiness. 

"I am happy here, though. I'm a vigilante that gets to save people, make them and their families happy. I have a family, Coraline. An actual family. They might not know but they love me anyway" 

Everything is truthful. Everything apart from that last bit. Tim is still on the fence for that one. Do they love him? Maybe. Will they love him if they find out? He isn't as sure. 

"They need to know sometime, Tim. Something will happen. Eventually something will happen that you won't be able to hide. They need to know how to help you when that happens" 

That statement is puntualised by the opening of the door on Tim's left, spilling metahumans as the door glides open. And Tim cannot hide his relief at being able to leave this conversation. Coraline may be right. But he will not be telling them anytime soon. Not if he can help it. 

So he stands, facing his team with a smile on his face and his eyes glimmering as they expect. 

And no-one but Coraline and Tim think twice about the small flicker they can see over Tim's eyes. After all, everyone knows that Tim doesn't have buttons for eyes


	2. Introspection and introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coraline gets a call in the middle of the night. Tim gets injured in the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might take a while to post the next chapter after this. Some minor writers block. But it could be a week. 
> 
> Please if you have any ideas or theories, drop them in the comments.

Coraline didn't know what to do back then and she doesn't know what to do now either. 

Seeing Tim again had thrown her for a loop. It makes her feel bad to say it, or at least to admit it. But she hadn't expected to see Tim ever again. 

It's callous and cruel, she knows but that doesn't stop her from going for her tools the second she sees the button eyes. 

Bad experiences and trauma and all that. It still doesn't excuse her though, Tim had been as much as a victim as she was. And. She'd left him to fend for himself in a strange new world where everything was different. She didn't even check in with him. 

That thought burrows into her mind, bringing pictures to the front of her mind. Images of things that didn't happen but could have. Tim living in poverty, sleeping under a bridge. Tim in a jail cell for stealing food. Tim dying of starvation or thirst or the elements. 

Because the dolls can die. As she had seen with her other father, swallowed up whole by the lake under the bridge He'd never resurfaced. And once she had the eye, it had all turned to ash before her own eyes. 

And Tim. Tim had been alone. In a world she had told him about but he had never seen. It was a recipe for disaster. Especially with his...defining feature. The button eyes were creepy for her. She didn't even want to think about how anyone else would react. 

She wasn't even sure how he hid the button eyes. He hadn't told her, not that they had actually discussed what was going on. No. 

They'd spoken in riddles and rhymes. Speaking plainly in a way that only they would understand the context. No-one else would know what was going on. 

No-one else knew. 

Coraline hadn't liked that. Tim needs someone to speak to. Someone who knows at the very least what he is and what he's been made for. But no. Tim was made to help. Not be helped. 

So when she receives a call at 2: 37 in the morning, she knows something happened. That something went wrong. 

"I'll be there in 10"

xxxx

As a general rule, Tim didn't think about it. Didn't think about the compulsion instilled into him to help and make happy. Didn't think about the black buttons where his eyes are supposed to be. Didn't think about the Other Mother or her world or even Coraline for that matter. 

All of that is behind him. 

Except, it apparently isn't. Coraline showing up at the watchtower shows that. 

It all still happened. It was all real. And Coraline says he can't just pretend otherwise but it's worked so far, hasn't it? 

It's all behind him. Until he takes an unlucky shot during patrol, too distracted fighting his compulsion to find Coraline. To help her with whatever she needs him to. Too distracted to see the ninja sneaking up on him. Too late to stop the ninja from getting a decent swipe to his chest. 

It leaves him angry and frustrated. No pain spiking through him as there should be. Skin splitting and spilling red blood. 

Fake. So so fake. 

And now that Coraline had reminded him of how fake it all is, he can't stop thinking about it. Pondering if he actually does bleed Red or if that's just another part of the game. 

Ponders and wonders and thinks until Red Hood eventually drops down beside him. At some point in time, he had gone from standing to laying down. The ninja unconcious a few meters away, starting to groan as the pain from his head filters in. Tim fights the compulsion to help his attacker. To make it better. 

He looks up at Jason, eyes wide but focused and clear. Jason, for his part, almost looks...worried. The domino over his eyes still obscure most of his expression but Tim has always been good at reading these kinds of things. It's what he was made for. 

"Tis but a flesh wound" Tim tries to assure, his voice raspy as he tries to laugh off the cut on his chest. It just causes Jason to frown more, concern leaking from every action as he inspects the battle scene. 

The way the ninja barely has a scratch. The pool of blood surrounding Tim and speaking outwards slowly, already starting to congeal in some places. The way Tim doesn't even seem to notice that he is slowly bleeding out on a rooftop. 

Taking a deep breath, Tim starts to push himself into a sitting position. It doesn't hurt but he winces like it does anyway. Jason immediately pushes him down, hands on his shoulders as he speaks into his comm. 

Tim can't hear what he's saying, fighting his instincts to go limp in the face of an attacker. Fighting not to give in and give up in the face of something that is bigger and stronger than him. 

He can hear bits and pieces of a conversation, Jason's emotions speaking louder than words. 

"Come get your birdy before you have to bury him"

"What makes you think I did anything Dickwad?" 

"I did nothing. Found him bleeding out on a rooftop with a ninja a few meters away"

"I'd hurry if I were you"

The one sided conversation doesn't tell Tim much. Tells him that the others think Jason did this to him. Which would usually be a fair assumption, if it wasn't for the fact that Jason is now helping him not bleed out. 

Jason's hands press onto the wound on his chest, reaching into Tim's various pockets and cursing when he doesn't find a pressure bandage. Instead, he puts both hands on the cut and leans with his body weight onto them. Trying desperately to stop the bleeding. 

A few minutes later, Batman drops down beside Jason with a swish of his cape. The fact that it doesn't immediately escalate into a brawl is proof enough that Tim is badly injured. Batman's choked inhale just drives it home. 

Reaching into his pockets, Batman pulls out pressure bandages to wrap around Tim's chest. It takes effort on Tim's part to get into a sitting position, helped only by Nightwing's arrival to keep him seated as Batman and Red Hpod work together to wrap his chest. 

Bits and pieces of their conversation prick his mind and hone his ears but he pays no mind to it, only to his heartbeat.

"Glad you didn't bring the Demon Brat. He might have tried to finish Replacement off" 

"He's been doing better" 

"Either way. Someone should probably take the ninja back to base. Don't know when he's gonna wake up" 

"Hm"

"I'll take him. Jason can keep him sitting and you can finish up wrapping. Then we can bring him back to base to see what the damage is" 

"I am not stepping foot in that cave. Forget about it Dickhead" 

"Jay. Please. Tim might be dying. I mean...he isn't even responding" 

A short silence. 

"Fine. But only to make sure there isn't another dead birdy" 

Tim really should respond to them, wince when the wrap the bandages too tight or something. Maybe tell them that he can actually hear them. 

But all he can do is sit and stare. Not in shock. No. But in wonderment. Because Jason is here. Jason is going to the batcave. Maybe the blood loss is getting to him but Tim can't help but think that might be worth it. 

xxxx

He doesn't remember the trip back to the cave. Doesn't really register the batmobile speeding way past speed limit and taking corners at speed. Doesn't feel Jason's iron grip tightening with each moment Tim doesn't seem to breathe. Doesn't see Bruce's increasingly frantic questions directed at Tim, asking him if he's awake, pleading with him to stay awake. 

Tim's mind had blanked the second he sees his reflection in the batmobile, black button eyes dulled. Because he isn't human. 

He's known that forever. Since he was created. But. These people. The people that seem to care about him. They don't know. They don't know about the button eyes and the compulsions. Doesn't know he was made to serve and help and make people happy. 

Doesn't know that he isn't real. Not really anyway. 

He exists, yes. But he doesn't really qualify as real. Tim Drake doesn't exist, never has. He exists, yes but only on the whim of a creature he has come to despise. 

It's chilling.

He only comes back to himself when Alfred realises that they don't have any blood bags set aside for him. 

This starts a wave of renewed horror from the rest of the Bats, seeing how much blood he's lost. But he isn't even actually sure if he bleeds at all. Do things like him bleed? Is it a part of the disguise? An illusion? He isn't sure. 

So he opens his eyes for the first time since he saw his reflection, meeting the eyes of Barbara across the cave. 

"Call Coraline Jones"


	3. It all comes to light.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coraline visits the cave. But she doesn't really care. Not when Tim's life is in danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still having a small spar with writer's block. Wish me fortune in my battle please.

Coraline doesn't waste time. 

She rushes out of her house and speeds her way right to Gotham. She isn't sure where to go once she enters city limits but it becomes irrelevant in her panic. 

Turns out, she shouldn't have worried. Once she makes it past the Kane Memorial bridge, a voice starts filtering in from her car radio, introducing themselves as Oracle, a friend of Tim's. So Coraline follows the instructions the strange woman gives her, leading her in a roundabout way to some undercover parking garage in an honest-to-god cave. The batcave. 

She doesn't have time to think about it though, simply rushing out of her car and toward the group of vigilantes she can see surrounding a medical bed. As she approaches, she can see Tim laying on the bed, still and unmoving, eyes closed, overlaid over his buttons. 

She doesn't hesitate to start cursing him out in every language she knows in the most creative ways she can think of. Because of course the day after they meet again, he gets seriously hurt enough to need her help. Isn't that just her luck. 

She skids past the one with the menacing red helmet, who makes to stop her but stops at her frantic expression. She passes by them unhindered, until she stands by Tim's bedside, looking him over for injuries. 

Not liking what she sees, she reaches for his neck. Every bat jumps at her for it, until she pulls out the necklace he wears. The necklace with the yellow stone. The necklace keeping the illusion alive. The necklace hiding his button eyes. 

She has to think for a bit, weighing the consequences of removing the necklace versus the consequences of not removing the necklace. The unbidden image of a Tim drained of all colour, still and silent chooses for her as she unclasps the chain from Tim's neck. 

The second the chain loses contact with Tim's skin, the illusion fades. 

Most things stay the same. Tim is Tim after all. But the eyes. His blue eyes fade like a hologram, revealing big black button eyes to his family. 

They do not react all that well. 

Batman stills completely, muscles locking together in shock. Red Hood freezes but his fists clench and his jaw groans at the strain. Oracle immediately starts researching what is going on. Agent A is the only one that keeps a calm head. 

He breathes deeply for a while as he stares at Tim's now revealed features. But shakes himself out of it and starts asking questions. 

"Miss. Jones, may I ask why my ward now has buttons for eyes like a ragdoll?" 

Coraline flinches at the mention of a doll. Because that is what Tim once was. But not anymore. Now, he is Tim. 

"Tim....it's a long story. We can talk about that once he actually has some blood in his system" 

"We do not have any blood bags for him, Miss" 

"Coraline is fine. And he should be compatible with me" 

Alfred seems wary to take that at face value but without any further information, he has no choice but to trust her. So he does a field transfer, as quickly as he can while being safe. 

Tim's colour returns slowly, his cheeks going pink and healthy after the first transfusion. They do two to be safe. Coraline feeling slightly lightheaded but secure in the knowledge that Tim will make it. Will wake up. 

He doesn't wake up. 

He remains quiet and still and unconcious. And while Coraline knows that people don't just wake up after bleeding out, she almost starts to panic. Instead, the Red Hood sits her down on a bed next to Tim. 

Seems like it is interrogation time. For her, at least. She isn't sure if the Bats would qualify this as an interrogation quite yet. After all, there are no bright lights shining into her face. No handcuffs around her wrist. No one sided mirror. On the other hand, maybe she'd just been watching too many crime dramas. 

"You know who he is" is the first thing Batman says, states, actually. It's obviously a statement rather than a question but Coraline thinks it better to answer.

"Tim and I go way back" She says, smiling wistfully at her friend stretched out on the bed. 

"You know about the..."

Coraline laughs at the realization that Batman won't even say it "Buttons. The button eyes. And yes, I knew" 

"How?" This time, Nightwing is the one to ask and she turns to face him accordingly. 

"As I said. Tim and I go way back. We...met when we were kids"

"More" Black bat states, confusing Coraline as everyone turns to her. 

"She means that there is more to the story than you are saying" Oracle clarifies. 

"And there is. But is it my story to tell?" Coraline asks, looking over at Tim and thinking. 

Red Hood seems ready to continue his interrogation before he is stopped by Black Bat. 

Meanwhile, Coraline thinks. Because, is it her story to tell? No. But will Tim ever actually tell the story? No. Would it be beneficial to his health to tell the story? Yes. Is it therefore moral to tell the story without Tim's consent? Coraline doesn't know. 

At what point do you say that it is beneficial to him to tell the story and take action? When it poses a danger to his life? It already has. When his life is in immediate danger due to the secret? Past that point already. 

So Coraline looks again at her friend and makes her decision. 

"When I was a kid, my parents were very busy, never really had time for me, you know. They dragged me along as we moved to a new state, where I had no friends. I, of course, complained the whole way" 

"What does this have to do with Tim?" Batman interrupts, but Coraline only shakes her head, saying that they'll get to it. 

"I didn't like the new place. It was quiet and boring. The neighbors were all insane or annoying. And there was nothing to do. A neighbor of mine, Wybie, found this doll in his grandmother's attic that looked exactly like me. So he gave it to me, you know. 

I didn't think anything of it but it was interesting so I took it along with me. 

It all started going wrong that night, when I woke up to a mouse in my room. A jumping mouse. I followed it to a little door in the living room that I found earlier in the day. When I opened it earlier, it just opened to bare bricks. 

But when the mouse went through, it turned into a tunnel. Glowing and moving with cool stuff scattered and displayed around. It was amazing" Coraline admitted with a smile, remembering her wonder at the tunnel, before everything went wrong. 

"On the other side was. My house. Exactly the same. But the people were different. The first person I met called herself my Other Mother, looked exactly like my mom but she had black buttons for eyes. And things were different. 

My parents had time to do things with me. They wanted to spend time with me. The neighbors were interesting. Wybie was less irritating. 

And then. The other mother introduced me to Tim. Said that he was a guide. A friend that was supposed to help me with whatever I need" 

Her voice starts to choke with that, remembering Tim standing outside of the house with a smile.

"It was all fake. Nothing about it was real. She offered to let me stay with her forever, never have to go back. All she needed was one thing. She needed to sew buttons over my eyes" 

She can see the reactions of the Bats as she looks at them. The visceral horror laced with curiosity. 

"I refused. I ran and everything fell apart. The world was made for me. Made to be perfect so once things didn't have to be perfect anymore, it went all scary. Tim was the only thing that wasn't affected. 

The Other Mother made him to help me with whatever I needed. The others were there to convince me to stay. So once they couldn't convince me, they fell apart. But Tim. Tim still had a goal. Still had a purpose. So he helped me. 

He helped me beat the other mother and helped me escape. And at the last second, I pulled him through with me" 

The guilt lacing her tone seems to shock them, forcing Nightwing into asking "Why is that a bad thing?" 

Coraline can't help but let out a teary laugh "Because he doesn't belong here. He doesn't exist here. Tim Drake never existed. Never will exist. Tim is here because I dragged him out of a crumbling world as a naive child that didn't understand that sometimes things are better left alone. 

And then. I left him. I helped Wybie's grandmother build the illusion for Tim to hide his buttons. And I left" 

The story spilled from her lips cause the Bats to pale, conflict in the idea of Tim not really existing beyond a construct to help Coraline. They can see it, though. Can see the way his primary objective still holds strong. 

Tim was the one to help Batman stay strong after Jason's death. Tim was the one who helped Nightwing recover from Jason's death. Tim was the one who repetitively forgave Jason for trying to kill him. Tim was the one who helped Damian escape his Grandfather, despite the fact that Damian had wanted to kill him. 

This new context put all of that in a different light. If Tim was created to help, then he would help each and every one of them without question. Without thought on how it would affect him. Tim would help them even if it literally killed him. 

It was compulsive. Woven into the very fabric of his being.


	4. The aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim finally deals with his emotions in a semi-healthy way. And the bats help. At least a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I typed out this chapter before, selected the text to post it, accidentally pressed paste instead of copy and lost the original version of this chapter. 
> 
> I was highly upset.

Tim didn’t want to wake up. 

Wanted to stay asleep or unconscious, wherever he was now. 

But he couldn’t. The voices around him wouldn’t allow it. Wouldn’t allow him to stay safe and warm and happy. No. He had to help. Had to wake up so that he could help. 

The first thing he heard didn’t shock him. Yelling. Not a strange occurrence, especially not in his family. 

He can hear the echo of the voices bouncing around the cave, layering voices over voices and making some of the words indistinguishable from his position. Tim, however, can still understand the majority of it. Can still understand what they’re arguing about. 

Him. 

He doesn’t tense. Doesn’t give himself that luxury. Instead, he focuses on his vague memories of last night. He remembers the ninja. Remembers Jason trying to stem the bleeding. Bruce and Dick. The cave. And then it goes blank. 

They must have patched him up. Probably with a blood transfusion, though he isn’t sure where they got the blood from. He knows he doesn’t have any extra blood bags in the cave, made sure of it ages ago. Couldn’t have anyone doing any tests and find out that not only is he not who he said he is, but he also isn’t what he said he is. It would be a disaster. 

But then. How is he here? How is he awake? Never mind how he’s still alive with that kind of blood loss. 

A vague memory rises up from the depths to answer his question.   
“Call Coraline Jones”

Stupid. 

Spend years hiding what he is from them, taking abuse and injuries as they come in an attempt to hide for just that little bit longer. But then, the second something reminds him of his past, he gives up completely? Pathetic. 

Tim can just imagine what Coraline had done. What Coraline had been forced to do, due to his own stupidity. 

Maybe she’d told them everything. Maybe she hadn’t. And Tim isn’t sure which option is worse. Isn’t sure which he would prefer, if given the choice. 

But he isn’t sure he can blame Coraline. Isn’t sure if it is physically possible for him to. 

Either way. He would prefer just to go back to bed. Fall unconscious once again, he urges himself, laughing at his inner voice. 

But it simply isn’t meant to be. Cass clears her throat and even through the noise of the cave ambiance, the yelling and echoes, everyone stills. Because when Cass wants to speak, everyone listens. 

At that point, Tim knows the game is up. Cass knows that he’s awake. And she won’t let him go back to bed for some odd reason. So he makes a decision, pushing himself to sit upright, ignoring the pain that should be in his chest but isn’t. 

Ignoring the eyes trained on his every move. 

Looking around, Tim can see Bruce sitting by the computer with Babs, not really using it but more using it as a distraction. Babs, however, is still typing furiously with one hand, even as the other raises in a greeting wave towards Tim. Cass is close to the two of them, sitting on a couple of spare sparring mats, eyes trained on Tim and shining with an emotion that he can’t read. 

Dick, of course, is the first to move. Leaping off of the trapeze equipment they have in the cave, rolling off of the safety net as he’s used to and then outright sprinting towards Tim. Jason is the only one that doesn’t move, standing stock still, leaning against the wall.

It gives Tim a bit of information about how each family member is reacting at least, Tim thinks as he starts to fidget with a piece of loose bandage on his sternum. 

That’s when he notices the obvious. There is no weight on his chest. No light touch of a stone. In fact, no drag of a chain against the skin of his neck either. No necklace. 

No necklace. No illusion. No eyes. No hiding the buttons. 

Distantly, he can understand the irony. At least he knows what Coraline had chosen now. But that doesn’t migate the immediate effects. Doesn’t stop Bruce from kicking him out. Doesn’t stop Batman from throwing him out of the city. 

Doesn’t stop any of the others from seeing what a monster he is. 

By the time touch filters back in, Tim can vaguely feel a hand on his shoulder blade, another holding his hand against an almost flat surface “-eathe, Tim. I need you to mimic my breathing, alright. Breathe in at the count of 3. Can you do that for me?”  
“1”  
“2”  
“3”

Tim follows Dick’s instructions as well as he can, given the circumstances. Coming back to see Dick’s eyes wide with worry right in front of him. 

Then, he realises that he isn’t in the cot anymore. He’s sitting down flat on a cold, hard surface. Most likely the cave floor. But how did he get here? 

Dick seems to see the question in his eye – or rather, not eyes. Buttons. Right. 

“You had a panic attack. Started pulling at your hair and thrashing. Probably tore a few stitches, which we’ll redo in a bit. K?” Dick’s voice is calm, clear but Tim can still hear the underlying stress and worry that his brother tries to hide. 

Help. Help him, the compulsion pleads. And Tim is too weak to resist. 

The smile on his lips pulls unnaturally at his muscles. Wide and full and happy. More like Coraline’s smile than his own. Dick seems to see this, and his answering smile is wan. “Dick, I’ll be fine. I promise, alright?” the words don’t pass his brain before spilling from his tongue, the taste of ash and needles. 

He stops there, fighting down the compulsion. “Sorry” Tim pants afterwards, seeing the disturbed look on Cass’s face as she scowls at his features. It must be strange for her, a person who relies on body language to communicate. Must seem like 2 different people are communicating with the same body. 

So he firmly forces the compulsion further down, as it tries to rise again. To make Cass more at ease. 

Forces himself to look around at the people surrounding him. 

Babs had stopped her typing somewhere in his panic and Jason had moved closer. In fact, all of them seemed closer than they were before, faces creased up in concern. Some more obvious than others. 

But the concern quickly leaves the twist of Bruce’s lips as he steps forward. And even without the cape, Tim can tell that B is no longer Bruce but Batman. 

Cass intervenes before Bruce can start his interrogation, physically stepping in between Tim and Batman to tilt her head at him. She watches for a second, nods to herself and then approaches slowly. 

“Brother” she says, pointing to Tim, almost poking him in the chest with her fingertip. “Brother good. Brother…scared. Of us” she declares to the room at large, airing Tim’s feelings for everyone to see. And Tim shrinks down with the feeling of 5 pairs of eyes trained on him. But Cass doesn’t move away. Doesn’t leave him to the metaphorical wolves. 

Instead, she moves closer, widening her arms to embrace Tim in an awkward hug. She has to hunch down to reach him, sitting down on the cot. “Brother here. Brother happy. Brother….belong here. Brother make me happy” Cass says, as if she doesn’t know the scars she’s tearing open with each word. Except she knows exactly what her words are doing. Can feel his hitch of breath when she says that he belongs here. Can feel him straighten involuntarily as she says that he makes her happy. Playing him like a fiddle. 

She soon moves away when Dick’s hand closes around her shoulder lightly, dancing away from Tim, as his brain refuses to compute that she’d left, leaving his arms dangling in the air. Dick doesn’t seem to mind, almost immediately filling the gap that Cass had left. 

He doesn’t speak at first, rather just clinging to Tim as hard as he can without causing Tim pain. “You know that I can’t feel pain, right? I literally do not have the sensors to feel pain, so you don’t have to worry about hurting me” Tim whispers. Not wanting to disrupt the moment but knowing that he should tell him. Dick doesn’t tighten his grip, instead loosening it further. “Just because you can’t feel the pain, doesn’t mean that you can’t get hurt. In fact, it puts you at more risk of getting hurt since you can’t feel the injury itself” Barbara interrupts, wheeling towards Tim’s right slowly. 

Dick doesn’t bother retreating completely, dragging a hand down Tim’s arm before he pulls away to swing from the safety net. It leaves Barbara to Tim, her eyes focused but almost resigned. 

“I. Don’t know how to help you, Tim. I just don’t know” she admits, sounding like the words were dragged out of her lungs, kicking and screaming. Oracle, after all, prides herself on knowing. “Coraline mentioned something about the Beldame” she explains, graciously ignoring Tim’s flinch at the mention of his creator “But, I can’t find anything about it besides an old French poem about a cruel woman. Maybe Fae but I just. I don’t know how to help you here” she admits again. 

Tim understands. He was made to be useful. Made to be helpful. And Barbara had been moulded into that as well. A person who isn’t sure what to do if she can’t help. A person who needs to prove that she can help, despite her disability. Or at least in her mind. 

“Barbara. You don’t need to know. In fact, I would rather you didn’t know. Because knowing means you saw her. And there is nothing I want less than to see my family suffer at her hands. Please. Understand me when I say you don’t have to know. Don’t have to do anything to help. I’m perfect as I am. But. Thank you for trying” Tim says, words clumsy and warped. Because how do you explain to someone that you understand. How do you explain that she doesn’t have to be useful or helpful? That she can just be happy and that would make you happy in turn. 

Tim isn’t sure. He doesn’t get the time to figure it out either, as Jason steps forward with a med kit in hand. 

Barbara moves out of the way, for Jason to step forward and start undoing Tim’s bandages that he hasn’t even noticed had started to stain red. Jason takes his time, unwrapping the bandaged gently, peeling them back from the wounds and taking it slow where some of the blood has already dried and thus clung to Tim’s skin. 

Neither of them speak. Tim sitting in silence and watching Jason disinfect and then redo the stitching of the wound. Jason seeming very concentrated on the process, which is bull. Jason can clean a wound with his eyes closed. They all can. No. Jason is thinking. 

“I’m sorry. For trying to kill you. And attacking you in the tower. And the train station. I’m sorry” he says, backing away immediately after, as if trying to avoid the emotions that had just spilled from his lips. Tim doesn’t blame him. Jason is basically allergic to apologies, let alone apologies and emotion. It doesn’t matter. Tim understands, just as he always has. 

During that time, Tim doesn’t see Dick gesturing wildly to Tim, looking directly at Bruce and frowning. Nor does he see Barbara and Cass team up to try to beat some sense into Batman’s think skull. Though, later, when they tell him, he wishes he had. 

Bruce doesn’t do apologies; he struggles with emotions as well. So, when Bruce puts a hand on his shoulder and instead of speaking, hands him his necklace, Tim understandably thinks that he’s being thrown out. Until Jason elbows Bruce in the ribs, hissing “the Pinocchio needs reassurance, Bats”, forcing Bruce to grunt out “You’re my son and I love you”. 

To anyone else, it might seem insincere, but Tim can see the colour on Bruce’s cheeks, stained pink. He can hear the gruff affection in Bruce’s voice. And he knows that he’ll be OK. 

Knows that this family might not be his by blood, but they love him. And that, is what matters.


End file.
